inner art

twigs
born of strings
everything
in this world
has a subtler
existence

inner art
of the Universe
sets cold, contracted
matter afire
with feather-light
snow-bright
Spirit

here,
Good and Evil
manifest,
or at least
for a time
to pretend
they're at odds

then we all
dance the Macabre
and fall into bundles
to reckon with
essential bliss